


Up From Below

by tiptoethrough



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-09
Updated: 2017-04-09
Packaged: 2018-10-17 00:34:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10582722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiptoethrough/pseuds/tiptoethrough
Summary: Jace left everything behind years ago: the Institute, the Clave, the Shadow world... Everything but Alec, all so they could pursue a relationship forbidden to them. Living in hiding in New York amidst a rash of mysterious deaths, he finds himself torn between the quiet mundane life they made for themselves and the sense that he's the only one standing between the people of New York and something terrible...





	

**Author's Note:**

> My first published Shadowhunters fic! Usually I don't like to publish things before they're finished, but I have been struggling with writing motivation lately and figured, there is no better motivation than pressure! Sadly this means updates probably won't be too quick, but I'll certainly do my best.

               Jace loved being the first one to wake up in the mornings. It was a rare occurrence, since Alec’s internal alarm usually had him up at the crack of dawn. On those few days when Jace stirred into consciousness with sunlight filtering through the window and Alec sleeping soundly next to him, he reveled in the opportunity to wake him, with his hands and his mouth. Jace loved the way Alec stretched beneath him as he woke up, pliant and sleepy, spreading his legs so Jace could settle between them. He could feel Alec’s smile against his mouth as they kissed and he slipped his hand down between Alec’s legs, working him open slowly.

               Mornings where Alec slept in were mornings that led to moments like this one, Alec whimpering as Jace rocked his hips forward, bracing himself over Alec with his hands on either side of his head, Alec’s legs wrapped around his waist. Alec threw his head back and Jace couldn’t resist himself, leaning forward to latch on to his exposed throat with his teeth. He licked the red mark he’d left behind. Alec tasted like sweat; Jace was sure he must have as well. He turned his head to press his lips into the notch behind Alec’s ear, eyes drifting over his face and then the alarm clock on the night stand.

_Fuck._

               Jace straightened as if lightning had struck at the base of his spine, pulling away from Alec and rolling out of the bed. Alec let out an unhappy cry and Jace cursed, already halfway across the small bedroom. He turned back to see Alec propped up on his elbows, glaring at him with his mouth twisted in discontent.

               “Shit, I’m sorry,” Jace said, walking backward. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I—” He left his sentence unfinished as he hastened across the hall and into their tiny bathroom. He brushed his teeth with one hand and tried to tame his hair with the other, half searching around the bathroom for the socks he’d thrown off yesterday.

               “I’m gonna be late,” he told Alec as he came back into the bathroom, “I am gonna be _so late_.”

               Jace got ready in all of 5 minutes before he was rushing out the door, but Alec’s voice called him back.

               “Jace, your watch!”

               He ran back for it and couldn’t help but to steal one more quick kiss—well, less quick than intended, once he had tasted Alec’s lips.

               “I love you,” he whispered.

               “Go to work,” Alec grumbled, rolling over and pulling covers back up around his neck.

               In Alec speak that was probably something like an _I love you, too_ , Jace figured.

                Jace barely caught the train in time, and made it into work without his manager ever being the wiser. Jace liked working at _Jax_ , as much as he could like any mundane job, he supposed. Waiting tables was easy for a shadowhunter: he could hear his customers’ complaints from across the restaurant and knew exactly which tables needed his attention, he could balance plates like no one else, he wore a stamina rune, and above all he was fast. Women tipped him exceedingly well and the host knew not to seat huge groups of men in his section. Jace was _Jax’s_ only male waiter, but he knew he was one of their best, something that always brought him satisfaction, no matter how dull the thing was. Add to all that the free gym membership and the fact that Alec worked there, too, and Jace figured it was a pretty sweet deal, for a mundane job.

                _Except…_

                Jace went through the day as he went through any other day at _Jax:_ he joked with his coworkers and customers, he flirted with women he had no interest in, his feet hurt, and he was bored out of his mind until finally _that moment_ , when his heart did that embarrassing stutter-y thing as Alec walked through the door to begin his shift on bar. _This is what it’s all about, Jace_ , he reminded himself, as he sneaked a break before Alec had clocked in, kissing him breathless in the backroom.

                “You left me awfully sore this morning,” Alec whispered into Jace’s mouth, before moving away, scowling. “You pulled out too fast,” he added, and Jace rose up onto his tip toes to chase after his lips.

                “I’m sorry,” he said again. “I’ll make it up to you.”

                “Mmhmm,” Alec hummed in agreement. “You used my shampoo again,” he accused. “I can smell it.” Jace didn’t particularly think it upset Alec as much as he made it seem so.

                “Well, I love the way you smell,” Jace whispered. Alec looked at him, his gaze soft and sweet now. Only Alec looked at Jace like that, like he was precious. Jace kept that image with him the rest of the day. _This is why you’re here_.

               His job left him feeling almost lifeless in its… _mundaneness_ , but there was no life without Alec, and there had been no freedom in the shadow world. None of Jace’s coworkers—some who had also become his friends—batted an eye at his relationship with Alec. None of them even knew what _parabatai_ or _deruning_ meant. It didn’t matter that Jace felt trapped in this job and in their tiny apartment, or that serving food wasn’t fulfilling like saving lives: there was only one type of freedom Jace needed, the freedom to be with Alec, without restrictions, without fear, and if waiting tables provided it, he guessed it was good enough for him.

               For the most part the managers at _Jax_ were good enough to give Alec and Jace similar schedules. They often had their days off together, but on those days they did both work it wasn’t always at the same time, and Jace found himself torn at the end of the night as he clocked out, wondering whether he should wait. He glanced at his watch as he made his way toward the bar. It was 11 on a Friday, and Alec would likely be working for many hours yet. Alec looked up as he approached.

                “You’re going home?” he guessed.

                “Yeah,” Jace told him, rapping his knuckles against the wooden bar. “I’m opening tomorrow, so I gotta hit the hay.”

                Alec nodded, and reached out to squeeze Jace’s fingers before he stepped away. The cold night air felt good on Jace’s skin as he left the restaurant, so he passed by the train station and wandered homeward instead, hands shoved into his jacket pockets. It was a long walk through parts of New York that others would probably have avoided at night, but Jace had a strength rune and a childhood of combat training behind him. Violence had never much frightened Jace, at least not since he was very little and learning it from his father.

                Alec frightened him, sometimes. His palms had been damp with sweat the day he asked Alec to be his _parabatai_ , and _the wait_ , a whole night obsessing over what tomorrow would bring… In truth, he hadn’t spent the night wondering whether Alec would say no as much as he had spent it wondering what would be the cool, collected way to handle that rejection. He’d almost cried with relief when Alec said yes. A few years later, when Alec kissed him back after Jace had backed him against the door of his bedroom and taken the biggest risk of his life, he actually _had_ cried. In a sense it was for the best that relationships like his and Alec were forbidden; it meant Alec could never tell anyone.

                Jace was startled out of his reminiscence by a clattering down a nearby alleyway. The street was empty, and he approached it slowly, his instincts causing his heart rate to pick up. He peered in, but saw nothing in the darkness. The sounds of the city around him drowned out any sound he might have heard from within. Still as he stood at the mouth of the alleyway Jace sensed that something was wrong, and he tread carefully farther into the darkness. The walls of the buildings climbed high enough that the light from the stars was blocked out, and Jace felt more that he was inside a tunnel than an alley. Even the air had the musty, dead quality of the underground, and Jace noted the unmistakable, putrid smell of demon ichor. A great crash behind him caused him to spin about, bringing his fists up. More darkness, and then scuffling toward the closed off end of the alleyway that had him turning once more.

                Jace’s breathing was laboured now, every nerve screaming and alert. And yet he was alone.

                Jace waited, a long time it felt, but he heard nothing else. He continued his walk home, now less interested in daydreaming and instead scrutinizing every person that passed him, every shadow that moved too fast, every darkened rooftop.

                He thought about telling Alec, as he stood beneath the hot spray of the shower. But he knew what Alec would say: _we can’t get involved, Jace. We’re in hiding, Jace. We have our own lives to think about now, Jace._ Besides, as he scrubbed Alec’s favourite shampoo into his hair, it was harder to remember the scent of ichor. And he hadn’t seen anything. Perhaps his mundane job had left him so bored that he was imagining things. It didn’t matter either way, because Alec’s voice in his head was right: it wasn’t Jace’s place to get involved. He was a waiter, not a shadowhunter.


End file.
